Grief
by GreenWood Elf
Summary: A long lost love from Lupin's past attends Dumbledore's funeral to find that her werewolf has fallen for another. Oneshot, HBP spoilers, NTRL, RLOC


**Author's Note: **Hello and welcome to my first Harry Potter fic! Sadly it's only a one-shot but I don't have time for longer fics these days. This takes place during Dumbledore's funeral. The main character is nameless, these are simply her thoughts. Feedback and constructive criticism is highly appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the Harry Potter books. They belong only to J.K. Rowling.

**Summary: **A long lost love from Lupin's past attends Dumbledore's funeral to find that her werewolf has fallen for another.

**Grief**

Grief is a strange thing. It can bring people together or pull them apart, quite contradictory when you think about it. I always marveled at people who rallied together in times of distress. It seems to be a deep human instinct, a need to join forces. There is strength in numbers. But then there are those few people that pull apart. Sad, so sad, especially when they are already surrounded by such horror.

I tried not to think such morbid thoughts as I headed to the lake on Hogwarts' grounds. But it was hard not to. We were massing together, forming one strong group of mourning wizards and witches. I forced my mind to go blank, something I could rarely do. He always said I over thought things anyway. He said it was endearing, so I never sought to change it. Maybe I should have.

The sun is strong, my eyes float up to the sky, leaving their normal place of my feet for a moment. The sky, oh the sky. Perhaps the only ancient thing left to us. It's a comfort to have it there, something I know will never change. I was always old world, belonging rather to our ancient forefathers. I wanted a place of belonging, I had hoped to find it in him. Yet I was wrong, so woefully mistaken.

Tears, they sting the corners of my eyes. The sun is too bright, the sky too vast, I find no happiness there today. It's strange to see the grounds at Hogwarts filled with a mass of black dress robes. I wonder what Dumbledore would think. Would he be humbled or simply brush it off with that quiet dignity he had. Dumbledore, yes Dumbledore. The reason I am here, though I am ashamed to admit that it is somewhat of a pretense. I was hoping to see him, even for just a second. Maybe it would restore a piece of my heart, its beat has grown fainter over the years.

I struggle to take my seat, the crowds are near impossible to navigate. I suppose it doesn't help that I'm straining my eyes all the while, looking for him. Some familiar faces, the shock of red hair that could only belong to one of the Weasleys. It's been so long. Ministry members, Hogwarts students, teachers, my word, even a gathering of centaurs.

No one seems to notice the small girl squeezed in a back row. And yes, I am squeezed, space is limited between the fat wizard sweating besides me and a witch wearing yards of opulent ebony robes. He would never see me, even if he was looking for me. But I must see him. It's my mission if nothing else. My werewolf, my Moony. I remember his gentle smile. Even though he seemed too mature for pet names I think he liked them. He refused to admit though. He refused to admit many things.

I was smart they told me, it wasn't seemly for a girl like myself to be romantically involved with someone "dangerous". My parents didn't like him, not that I cared. I cared only for him. But it was him that put an end to it. I still can recall that seemingly perfectly practiced speech. You would think he was running for Minister of Magic. He tried to remain calm, though his voice broke near the end. Too old, too poor, too dangerous. I cried, something I tried to avoid at all costs. I didn't want his pity.You never get over true love, especially when it walks out your front door.

I heard little of him, the only tidbit came three years ago when he started working at Hogwarts. He always wanted to teach. I knew the students would love him. How could they not? How could I not? My mind wanders again, it is in vain that I struggle to reclaim my original train of thought. I rise a little in my seat, the chair creaking rather unceremoniously. He has it be here, he must…

Oh there he is! Oh my heart has surely stopped it endless course! Several rows ahead, on the opposite side of the aisle. He hasn't changed much, his hair is perhaps a bit grayer, his face lined. Youth was never kind to him. But oh, there he is. Dear Remus, dear Remus. Love courses anew through my veins, the sweetest of poisons, the most intoxicating.

I should speak to him, yes I will. I cannot have gone so far as to not speak with him, to have his beautiful eyes meet mine once more. I forget myself, the witch besides me looks highly affronted at my visible joy. But I must…

There is someone with him, a girl who is familiar in an odd sort of way. Her name flees my mind, her face is a vague image, considering she is sporting locks of vivid pink hair. Something terrible is settling inside me, my heart now quivers. It is the sixth sense that a lover acquires. The girl is settling herself down next to him, she cannot be much younger than me. I watch, some sickened onlooker, frozen to the spot with an unknown dread. My stomach curls and twists nervously. Remus is leaning closer to her, he takes her hand.

A hot flush, like some vengeful wave sweeping along a parched shore threatens to overcome me. Fear is replaced with that bitter knowledge. My mother might think I'm jumping to conclusions, but the truth stares at me so plainly. Hate, rage, like a sour acid churns in my stomach now. The grief is gone, the fear forgotten. Betrayal is indeed a terrible thing.

His speech trickles once more into my mind. He spoke of protecting me, of doing what was right. Lies! Such cruel lies that spilled from his tongue. Those long years have passed, he abandoned me, abandoned me for another, abandoned me for _her. _I shouldn't have hoped he would remember me, or think of me fondly. I was young, naïve, smitten with an older man. But no longer is it so.

The young witch looks so happy, so pleased with herself. Love at first sight they say, well I suppose hate at first sight is possible too.

I feel myself sink into the chair, my legs finally giving under the weight of such bitterness. The witch to my right now looks concerned.

"Are you alright child?" her voice is a distant echo. "You are so dreadfully pale." I manage a nod, not trusting my voice. If I should open my mouth it would be to scream, to yell, to cry out in protest. I do not dare lift my eyes from them now. Oh Remus, my Remus. Do you cast me to such despair? I wonder now if you ever did truly love me as I loved you.

Tears, I cannot stay them now. I feel almost ashamed for this sign of weakness.

"Oh, here dear," the witch hands me a linen handkerchief, seeming to understand my grief. "It is a shock for us all, his passing."

I drop my eyes from him, another piece of my heart departing as I do so. My loss is much greater, too much to bear. My spiteful thoughts of revenge from before melt away. I am left with sorrow. Burying my face in my hands I weep.

**Author's Note: **So what did you think? Let me know! Thanks for reading!


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